


Dogs of War

by RussianWitch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, disturbingly tame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 13:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6196930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harold sits back and squints at Bear. The dog looks back innocently wagging his tail. "That's not a normal dog." The genius judges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dogs of War

**Author's Note:**

> not beta'd

After cleaning up, dressing and eating Harold sits back and squints at Bear. The dog looks back innocently wagging his tail. "That's not a normal dog." The genius judges after a few moments and something in John's stomach twists. "He's a military dog, Finch. There is nothing wrong with that." He tries defensively. "He's one of Ares'." That probably means that Harold will want Bear gone, but it does explain a lot. John looks down into Bear's eyes and now that he's looking, he can see a faint hint of red deep in Bear's eyes that flares when he spots it.

It explains why Bear took to John instantly: kind recognizes kind after all.

"I'll find him a home—" He frowns, because Bear has been a big help already, and a friend. John doesn't want to give him up, but he'll do it because the Library is a Gods free space. It's warded from any and all entering without specific permission, even Hermes would have trouble delivering a message to them if it was necessary. Having a Hound of War running around inside—of course they can't have that.

"Mr. Reese, I didn't say you had to get rid of him. I was merely curious if you were aware." Bear sensing his distress nuzzles at John's hand and he can't resist kneeling down to bury his face in the hound's neck. Finch won't make him get rid of Bear, he'll keep the other person he can count on. "I would never deprive you of—, John I hope you aren't under the impression that I would deny you any—friendship that doesn't jeopardize our calling." As much as John would love to thank Harold and ignore the danger Bear represents, he needs to play devil's advocate because Harold is more important than John's own well being.

"Doesn't  Bear?" He wraps himself around the hound basking in the echo of Ares' power that clings to the dog even after he's been away from the temple, it's nice: no matter how much he tries to ignore it, John misses the power. He misses the certainty of knowing his God will always be there, will stand at his back on the battlefield as long as he prays and keeps to Ares' rules.

Sometimes he still feels his God watching, a different sensation from the Machine that makes his spine itch when he's out and about, but Ares never materializes. He doesn't know if it's Harold's doing, or if Ares is angry and plotting his revenge. Sooner or later, John knows, he'll have to pay for his betrayal. He prays to Lachesis that it will be later, when Harold has found more people he can count on to keep him safe. He prays to the Moirai for Harold's safety with as much fervor as he used to pray to Ares for strength in battle, maybe more because compared to his love for Harold, his love for the god John had been dedicated to when he was still a babe was a mere infatuation.

"John, I won't take Bear from you." Harold is suddenly too close, reaching for John, his hand hesitating a breath away from John's head and rashly John leans back. He closes his eyes and fights the moan clawing at his throat, Harold's fingers tighten almost painfully in his hair and John lets it out: broken and tortured, much like John himself the moan escapes—and Harold steps closer. "If I could, I would give you the world, John! You must know that!" Harold assures him urgently, and John, all he can do is spin around and bury his face against Harold's belly to keep from blurting out that everything he wants is already his as long as he's allowed to stay at Harold's side. "John!" Harold demands, pulling John to his feet while trailing his hand along John's jaw. If John wasn't preoccupied with finding the right words to assure Harold that he's fine, he wouldn't be caught off guard.

Harold's hands cup his face, Harold's mouth testes of green tea, John wraps himself around the shorter man and loses himself in the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I get nostalgic about Xena Warrior Princes *ducks*


End file.
